Memorial...

This is a national day to remember those that have died in the service of this country. Although many members of my mother's family, my father's family, my wifes' mother's family, and my step-mother's family have served, none have died as a result of that service. That's the quick glance. The more in-depth one is to really investigate the kinds of things going on in the world. I live a pretty cush life. I'm not overly special--if something gets handed to me on a satin cushion, it's because I work my butt off to buy a satin cushion and ask somebody I know to hand it to me.
But I do enjoy a great deal of freedom in this country that many people elsewhere don't. In Egypt, there are laws against insulting the president. Here, there are talk shows devoted to it. In North Korea, the citizens, many of whom are starving, are forced and brainwashed into worshipping a small, strange man who has zero regard for their welfare. In this country, you worship anyone or anything and you become an object of negative opinion (except for yourself or celebrities--those are entities whose churches will always be packed). I'm not saying the latter is necessarily the best, but, I'd rather quietly say my prayers at the dinner table then loudly say them to an LCD screen, hand raised in salute, standing on the sidewalk outside my drab little cell, with AK47's trained at my back.
Ultimately, my only point in writing this evening is to mention that I for one am pleased about living here, pleased with the freedoms I possess, and am aware that it came with no little degree of bloodshed. I wish it hadn't taken that, but considering human nature, freedom such as ours will never fail to be worth its weight in blood. Take it or leave it, I suppose. And so I leave you with a line from a song I've probably left you with before--"If you can't change your world, change yourself, but if you can't change yourself, then change your world". (Matt Johnson)...

Silent Chill?

Only slighty. It had the spooky little girl thing going on. Which makes sense, because the movie was based on the video game which is, yes, a Japanese company. And as we all know, the Japanese have an irrational fear of little girls. It's like my mother's irrational fear of frogs. Most frogs, like most little girls, generally have an awkward cuteness and are easy enough to avoid (unless you're from Utah or Virginia Beach, and to my knowledge, my mother has never been to either). Aside from that, I wasn't angry to have paid or anything. The female protangonist and supporting protagonist angle was refreshing, following on the heels of High Tension, a trend-setting French psychological thriller (which did not portray little girls in any way to my knowledge, let alone as scary, which makes sense, because the French do not have any sort of collective fear of little girls--their phobias range only from soap to politeness). It's kind of like Radha Mitchell sheds the helpless female role from Man on Fire and allows herself to get a little caustic, a little persuasive. That and she carries the demon avatar of her daughter's mother's inner child into the church, which just really makes things bad for the cult that hides within. But I digress.
Next time, I will explain why being trapped on a small island in the Atlantic with several over-medicated women is a great vacation idea (HINT--it involves a snorkel, fins, and lots of Ibuprofin)...